


Too Pretty For Prison

by peaches854



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dominant/Top Sam, M/M, Power Dynamics, Prison Sex, Submissive/Bottom Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 02:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaches854/pseuds/peaches854
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean end up in prison, and Sam doesn't like the way the cons look at Dean, so he decides to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Pretty For Prison

**Author's Note:**

> If you like it, do comment! <3

Too Pretty for Prison

 

 

It was in Nevada that they got arrested for something that they’d been doing for most of their life- and ironically enough, it was one of their easiest cases- a routine salt-and-burn.

Dean had been so engrossed in digging up Melissa Lugosi’s grave and setting her on fire that he listened with barely half an ear when Sam said he was going to sit down for a while, waving his hand nonchalantly and saying ,”Sure, man, take however long you want to.”

Sam, lulled to sleep by the chirping of crickets and the cool breeze that had been blowing, had drifted off to sleep and hadn’t even realized it.

When he was rudely jerked awake, though, he found a pair of handcuffs being slapped onto his wrists, and a guy who couldn’t have been older than twenty ranting about why they were arresting him and how _wrong_ it was to do things like this and didn’t he have _any_ respect for the law?

Sam rubbed his eyes as best he could, taking in his surroundings, and the previously almost eerily-calm graveyard was now buzzing with action, cops everywhere, the area around Melissa’s grave taped off, sirens blaring and lights blazing.

He caught a glimpse of Dean struggling to get out of the hold of two bulky men that had very easily overpowered him before he was pushed into a squad car and driven off to the police station, butterflies- no, wait, giant moths- dancing around in his stomach, apprehension helping him fall asleep just as easily again.

When he came to again, he was being shaken awake by the young guy again, and the guy attempted (and failed _miserably_ ) to pull him out of the car. He stumbled out, and made his way inside with pushes from the young guy at even intervals of time. He was led along a long, dim corridor when the reality of it struck him- he was in _jail_. Whatever else they’d done, this was one thing that he’d never, in his wildest dreams, imagined happening.

That thought process was interrupted by the sound of catcalls from other cons in the cells, and Sam’s first thought was that no one would even try messing with him, seeing as he’d grown into a brick shithouse now. His second thought was, who they hell _were_ they leering at?

He lifted his head and looked ahead, and there- he saw it now. Dean. Dean, who’d already been made to change into the standard-issue orange jumpsuit that all prisoners wore. And hell, he couldn’t really blame the cons that were taunting Dean with comments of _Get some of that fine ass!_ and _Hoo boy, look at those lips! Made just for sucking cock. _Because, in spite of wearing the ugly outfit, Dean looked perfect. As always.

But when he looked back, he was clearly searching for someone, green eyes worried, until he saw Sam, and shot him a smile so brilliant that Sam immediately felt much better about the situation. Until, that is, some other asshole con said something else about his _delicate_ features, and his expression went back to a scowl, glaring at the dirty floor as if it had done him a personal wrong. Sam felt like punching the con repeatedly in his smug face.

Thankfully, they put him and Dean in one cell, so Sam didn’t have to worry too much about Dean.

Because, as tough as Dean was, he’d heard people talk about how _pretty_ he was often enough, and in jail? That was never a good thing. It was like throwing meat to a couple of ravenous lions that hadn’t eaten for months. Only, in this case, it was a couple of dangerous men who’d been subjected to the company of their right hand only for months. To speak the truth, Dean was too pretty for prison. He’s taken after their mother, looks-wise, at least, and Dean was slightly girly-looking. Or, as Sam preffered to look at it, Dean was beautiful.

Anyway, getting back to the task at hand, Sam shoved some of the cold chicken into his mouth, spitting it out again when he discovered that _rubber_ would probably taste better than the chicken ever would.

Dean was gobbling up his share enthusiastically, though, and Sam was wondering how he could stand it, when a big guy with a tattoo all over his arm that read,  
 _Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut_ _labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum._

Sam wondered whether he knew that the text was just a filler, used to usually demonstrate a font, as people wouldn’t pay attention to what was written, for once, thinking it’s gibberish, and would look at the style of writing. The guy didn’t look too smart, though, and even though Sam was a firm believer in the policy of _don’t judge a book by its cover_ , he guessed that the answer to his question was probably _no._

He sniggered at that thought, and looked up to find Dean looking at him, bemused, before turning back to the guy, who now had a smarmy, shit-eating grin on his face. He had _Earl_ tattooed on the other arm, so that’s what Sam assumed his name was.

He was right, because Dean’s next sentence was, “That’s very flattering, but I’m sorry, I don’t swing trhat way, Earl.” Which got him thinking again- what had the asshole con said? Dean looked really uncomfortable and was squirming in his seat in a way that reminded him of pre-pubescent Dean when Lindsay Roberts asked him out one sunny afternoon after school. And nowadays, it took a _lot_ to faze Dean, as cocky and smug as he was.

Earl moved closer, wrapping one beefy arm around Dean’s neck, and Sam just lost it- there was only so much he could tolerate, and having someone else’s hands on Dean wasn’t one of the things he could.

He pushed the guy away from Dean, and the adrenaline flowing throughout him made him lash out at the guy, and really give it to him good. He clipped him on the jaw, and the guy groaned but stepped away, getting Sam in a mean headlock. Sam head-butted him, kicking him when he was upright again, sending his knees buckling, and he fell down flat on his face, blood gushing out of his nose.

Some cons booed, but most cheered- looks like he wasn’t very popular here. He looked back up at Dean, whose expression was a mixture of awe, surprise and fury, and decided that being sent to solitary confinement for a week after that was totally worth it.

The next time Sam saw  Dean, he had a black eye and a puffy lip, and he refused to talk about how both of these had happened. Sam realized, though, that all the leering had increased once he’d left Dean’s side. He didn’t blame them- _Why not have fun with the pretty guy when the big man’s away?_ was probably what they’d been thinking, but it irked Sam all the same, to see _his_ Dean marked up so bad.

When he and Dean walked into the showers, though, he couldn’t stand the taunting anymore. A guy name Matt actually came up to Dean and kissed him, hard and dirty, and that was Sam’s breaking point.

“No one touches him, you hear me?” he said to everyone in general, only to be met with various versions of _He ain’t your property_ , and that’s when he decided to start taking action.

“Down on your knees, _bitch_ ,” he said, and he would’ve laughed at the look on Dean’s face any other time, but then Dean just slid down and did exactly what Sam told him to, and he realized that he liked it- it was actually turning him on.

Sam was hard already when Dean pulled Sammy Jr. out, cock huge and flushed, head almost purple. Dean tentatively ran a hand over it, almost marveling at the unexpectedly smooth texture of it, and ran a fingernail over Sam’s slit. Precome bubbled out of his cock, and Dean, looking very nearly curious, ran his tongue over the spongy head, tasting the liquid gathered there. Sam moaned out load, gripping Dean’s hair tight, and when Dean stretched his lips around his cock, he nearly came then and there, because, _hello_ , Dean’s lips. Dean was surprisingly good at it, and even though he forgot to leave out the teeth a few times, he drove Sam to orgasm with just his mouth, with little kitten-licks, sucking on his cock like it was the best kind of popsicle and _actually_ swallowing Sam’s release when he came in his mouth.

“Turn around,” growled Sam, and he could care less that at that moment, there were other cons in the room who were still leering, and would’ve love to exchange places with him. All Sam wanted to do was fuck Dean in front of them, so that they would know who Dean and his pretty arse belonged to.

Dean blushed and turned, supporting himself by leaning against the wall of the shower, thrusting his ass out, and there was a series of groans from all the cons- because, yes, Dean’s ass was totally drool-worthy. Sam bit down on Dean’s shoulder, marking him, claiming him as his own.

 He slid two water-slicked fingers in straight-away and began to scissor them. For a minute, he was almost scared that he’d hurt Dean, but then Dean begain moaning like a bitch in heat and pushing back against Sam’s fingers, begging and pleading for more in that absolutely fucked-out voice, even though Sam had done nothing.

Two fingers became three, the pretty pink of Dean’s rim stretched around Sam’s fingers, the size of which could easily equal the size of a less-endowed man’s cock.

“Please, please, fuck me!” moaned Dean, and Sam couldn’t take it any longer.

Amidst cheers of _Yeah, ream that ass!_ and _Mmm, give him what he wants!_ , Sam slid his cock into Dean’s tight channel and hissed- Dean was the tightest he’d  ever had, by far.

Sam began rocking slowly, increasing the speed of his thrusts gradually until he was _slamming_ Dean against the wall, and he could actually hear quite a few cons jerking off to the sight they made.

Dean’s hole clamped down around him, suddenly, and his cock released string after string of pearly come onto the walls of the shower, and the clenching of Dean’s channel, the visual alone, and the implication that he managed to make Dean come _untouched_ was enough to set him off too, and he came inside Dean, and heard ther other men groaning as they came, too.

Sam pulled out of Dean slowly, watching his come trickling out of Dean, and smiled smugly.

“He’s mine, y’hear?” he said to everyone in general, and there were grudging agreements.

Dean muttered, “We are _never_ talking about this again”, but that didn’t stop him from asking for Round Two later. Or Round Three. Or, you know Round Nine and Ten.


End file.
